


Hired Gun

by kettykika78



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF John Watson, BAMF Sherlock Holmes, Fanart, Gen, John Watson is a Mercenary, Mercenary John Watson, Partial Nudity, Scars, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:54:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28813746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kettykika78/pseuds/kettykika78
Summary: You can see here some fanarts i made for the fiction "Hired Gun".[After faking his suicide in response to allegations of fraud, two years into dismantling Moriarty's network finds Sherlock Holmes in Morocco. Nearing the end of his mission, he is apprehended by a man with the mercy of a doctor, the control of a soldier, and the brutality of a mercenary.Through capture, betrayal, and unexpected danger, both Sherlock and John Watson, gun-for-hire, will have to learn who can really be trusted.]
Comments: 36
Kudos: 56





	1. Phoenix

**Author's Note:**

  * For [simplyclockwork](https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplyclockwork/gifts).
  * Inspired by [hired gun](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26958208) by [simplyclockwork](https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplyclockwork/pseuds/simplyclockwork). 



> Dear visitor,  
> thanks for coming to watch my fanarts!
> 
> I made this sketches on tan paper, with pencil and white guache.
> 
> You can find "Hired Gun" HERE : https://archiveofourown.org/works/26958208

[Extract from [Hired Gun, chapter 1](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26958208/chapters/65796877)]

It had been ages. Two weeks ago was two years since faking his own death, and Sherlock missed London like a physical part of himself. If Sherlock was naive enough to believe in the concept of a soul, he might have said it had been parted from him the second he set foot off the roof of Bart’s Hospital. He left without knowing whether he would see the familiar, smoggy skyline of home again.

He would leave Morocco tonight, land in Serbia late tomorrow. Five names. Five men between him and home. He was so close. It was right there, the lure of success, of completion. Sherlock could taste it.

[This schetch show Sherlock as I image him in Marocco. I used pencil and white guace on tan paper. ] 

https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NLn89kQ-uUs/YARe9zOu_mI/AAAAAAAAENc/wue38jFVSvkxcMXPWr2Tqh09UuTAUgRrwCPcBGAYYCw/s2048/Sherlock%2BHiredgun.jpg 


	2. Captain

[Extract from [Hired Gun, chapter 1](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26958208/chapters/65796877)]

Sweat beaded on his brow and trickled down the side of his face as John shifted his posture to alleviate a cramp in his left thigh. The ghost of an ache lingered in the limb, and he massaged the muscle with one hand while he gripped binoculars in the other. After watching Phoenix’s bolthole for the better half of the day, John was antsy. Hours of sitting brought out his restless side, making him ache for action, for adrenaline and the chase. If someone told him working as a mercenary involved almost as much sitting around as most desk jobs, John was confident he wouldn’t have bothered. 

[This is how I imegined John as a mercenary in Marocco. Long hair, gruffy stubble, functional clothes.

I used Pencil and White Guace on tan paper. ]


	3. Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey People!   
> I allow myself indulging on John in #HiredGun by @clockworkfic .   
> I used Martin Freeman real proportions, adding just a little bit of muscle definition & scars.   
> Made in black red white pencils & white gouache on tan paper.

[Extract from **Hired Gun** chapter 22]

For a long moment, there was silence. Sherlock began to think John wouldn’t bother to answer and wondered if he should call out. He’d only just pulled in a breath when the handle turned, and the door opened to reveal John.

With one hand on the door jam, John looked up at Sherlock, his expression cautiously curious. He looked wary and tired, just the other side of defeated.

To Sherlock’s shock, he was clad in naught but a towel slung low on his hips. John's bare upper body was flushed, his skin still radiating warmth from a shower. Staring, Sherlock slowly registered the humidity drifting from the bathroom. Even with it permeating the hall, turning the air heavy and warm, Sherlock had been too caught up in his own thoughts to notice. His held breath rushed out at the sight of John’s near-nudity. His tongue, previously prepared with words, stuck to the roof of his mouth. It was all he could do not to choke on it as his mind went blank. Rooted in place, Sherlock watched a bead of water slip out of John’s damp hair and trickle down his neck. It made its way over a broad shoulder, along John’s left pec.

Sherlock quickly forced his gaze away before it could catch on a dusky pink nipple.

[Please, continue to read this fiction Here <https://archiveofourown.org/works/26958208/chapters/71342139> ]

https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JZ87p25DzUA/YDPjyV1_ZrI/AAAAAAAAER0/hNmnBnVE6IEuL2Fl5B40zsgEcr0p4dASwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1404/HiredGun_John_shower_kettykika78.jpg 


End file.
